My scale was broken. My trusted confidant, my tormentor, my friend. It no longer told me my weight (which was moving at glacial speeds). Instead, when I stood on it, it simply said LO. Which I assumed meant low battery and not that I’d hit a new low weight. I was right.
And I was heartbroken. Seriously, I felt like my world was crashing in. How could I weight myself with a broken scale? How could I obsessively check every morning to see if I was up .2 pounds or down .4?
But thanks to the battery dying, I realized what had happened. For someone who was working so hard to lose weight and get healthy and who was trying not to obsess about it, I had become one of “those” people.
Those people who are focused on a magic number.
Those people who are following a strict regimen of what to eat and when to eat it, repeating their meals and foods like a ritual, always needing the same snack or the same lunch.
Those people who spend way too much time on a part of their lives that shouldn’t take that much time.
Because if you do spend that much time and effort on it, you either hit the point where you get frustrated and quit or you become totally rigid and drive yourself – and everyone you know – crazy.
I don’t want to be one of those people. But I had been turning into one.
And what’s really funny?
For all my focus on that magic number, for my urge to crack below 170, I didn’t actually do it until the scale broke. When we got a new battery and I checked in, I was down to 168.
My lesson? I need to shift my focus on those numbers. It’s okay to track them. Just not like I was.